The System Arrived Four Years Early, but the Anomaly Is Still a Juvenile - Chapter 102

The match was over.

Shen Ge swung his racket with an air of effortless superiority, as if to say, “I barely broke a sweat, and you already surrendered?” He strolled to the center of the court while Zhang, the nationally ranked tennis prodigy, walked away with a big, fat zero.

It wasn’t that Zhang lacked skill—it was simply impossible to compete against “Walk the Tightrope,” “Zero-Shiki Drop Shot,” “Swallow’s Return,” and other moves straight out of a killer tennis anime. Even Federer or Nadal would’ve thrown their hands up in defeat.

Losing the match was one thing, but some genius in Zhang’s entourage had livestreamed the whole thing on Douyin, confident of victory. Now, clips of his humiliation were probably spreading like wildfire.

Defeated, out of money, and stripped of dignity—Zhang Yaozu was livid.

“Impressive. Never thought someone like you could play tennis,” Zhang sneered, extending a hand with fake sportsmanship.

Shen Ge ignored the handshake and instead handed his racket to Zhang. “I’m a humble guy. No need to carry my gear, even after losing. But since you’re so eager to help, I’ll humor you. Oh, and return the court’s racket when you’re done.”

“You—!”

“Me what? Want a rematch? Tennis is actually my worst sport. I’m known as the ‘Neighborhood Athletic Prodigy.’ Pick any other game—I’ll wreck you. Five million a round, of course.” Shen Ge smiled.

“Other sports?” Zhang’s eyebrow twitched.

“Absolutely. I’m a polymath of athletics. Basketball? Trained under Kuroko’s Basketball. Soccer? Shaolin Soccer lineage. Killer tennis? Child’s play. Now, enough chatter—five million. Wire transfer or cash?”

“…” Zhang was at a loss.

Call it bullshit, but Shen Ge had literally pulled off anime-tier techniques. If they switched to basketball, he might just dunk on Zhang with a “Dragon Soars the Sky” slam, and that’d be ten million down the drain.

Five million wasn’t trivial, even for Zhang. Money didn’t grow on trees, so he bit his tongue.

Cheng Shengnan stepped forward. “We have a notarized agreement from Rong’an Law Firm. Surely the second son of the Zhang family wouldn’t renege?”

Zhang swatted her phone away and raised a hand to strike her. “Gambling contracts are void under the law, sweetheart. You’re out of your depth.”

Shen Ge moved like lightning—catching the phone midair while seizing Zhang’s wrist. “I tried not to stoop to your level, but you just keep pushing. Some say the strong shouldn’t bully the weak, but when the weak beg for a beating, what’s a guy to do? Tragic, really.”

Zhang tried to wrench free, but Shen Ge’s grip was iron. When their eyes met, Zhang’s bravado died in his throat. Shen Ge’s smile was chilling—like a predator toying with prey.

“The hell you think you’re doing?”

“You wanna touch our Zhang? Try it, pretty boy!”

“Big talk for a sugar baby!”

The lackeys surged forward. One hulking brute, nearly two meters tall, lunged to grab Shen Ge’s throat—a move that screamed professional enforcer.

Shen Ge sidestepped, hooked the man’s arm, and slammed his elbow into the joint.

CRACK.

The brute collapsed, howling. “MY ARM! IT’S BROKEN! HE’S KILLING ME!”

Spectators scattered or whipped out phones to record. With their toughest guy down in one hit, the others hesitated.

Zhang hissed, “This is a lawful society. Assault is a crime. Call the cops! Kid, kneel, apologize, and pay 500k, or I’ll bury you in prison for a decade.”

“Ah, ‘lawful society’—yet you’re framing me?” Shen Ge chuckled.

“Framing? Please. We’ve got witnesses and evidence. Let me teach you something: money buys justice.”

“Can’t even cough up five mil? That’s your idea of ‘money’?”

Zhang blinked. This guy’s logic was alien.

“If you want to play the ‘connections’ game… well, I used to worry about exposing myself if I went overboard. But now?” Shen Ge cracked his knuckles. “Let me show you what real privilege looks like.”

Originally, Shen Ge had just wanted to test the precision of his “Unseen Domain” ability. If he could manipulate a tennis ball’s trajectory, controlling explosives for supernatural combat would be child’s play.

The five-million bet? Just a flex—his sugar mommy was richer and hotter than anything Zhang could offer.

But then Zhang had to go and hit a woman in front of him.

Violence?

Shen Ge was delighted. Even before joining the Special Response Division, he wasn’t one to back down from a fight. Two months of brutal training had only sharpened his edge.

The brute had gone for the kill—so Shen Ge broke his arm without remorse. Mercy to enemies was cruelty to oneself.

Zhang could’ve walked away with his tail between his legs. Instead, he’d doubled down on his “powerful background” card.

Well, if he wanted to play that game, Shen Ge would teach him what true authority meant.

As Shen Ge advanced, Zhang barked, “You dare—?”

Two words. That’s all he managed before every man in his group—save the D-list influencers—hit the floor.

“W-what do you want?” Zhang stammered, legs shaking. “T-this is a lawful—”

Shen Ge suddenly closed the gap, “accidentally” slipping something into Zhang’s hand before backing off, arms raised in mock surrender.

Zhang looked down. His soul nearly left his body.

A gun.

“A toy? You think this’ll frame me? Even if it’s real, there’s witnesses—”

“Not anymore.” Shen Ge shrugged.

Zhang turned. The crowd, spotting the gun, had bolted.

“Stealing an officer’s firearm, assaulting law enforcement… How do you think the judge will rule?” Shen Ge grinned.

“Says you!”

Shen Ge flicked out his badge. “That’s right. I say. And guess who the judge will believe?”

“Abuse of power!”

“I’m not a cop. What ‘power’?”

Zhang’s brain short-circuited. Shen Ge had heavily implied he was police—until now.

As the Zhang heir, he had influence. No judge would take Shen Ge’s word over his!

Then uniformed officers stormed in, tasers drawn.

“DROP THE GUN!”

“NOW!”

Zhang flung the weapon aside. “M-misunderstanding! He’s the attacker! I called you! He planted that!”

His groaning lackeys littered the floor. The cops hesitated, aiming at both men.

Shen Ge flicked his badge at them like a playing card. “Special Response Division. Official business.”

The officers stiffened. One inspected the badge, then snapped a salute.

“Sir!”

Three years ago, all new officers had been briefed: “Defer to the SRD. No questions.”

Zhang’s jaw dropped.

Shen Ge retrieved his badge. “Apologies for the disturbance. My investigation may have alarmed bystanders.”

“N-no trouble, sir! Need assistance?”

“My team’s en route. Just ensure any footage of this gun theft and threat doesn’t leak.”

“Understood!” The cops hurried out.

Shen Ge picked up the gun, wiping it clean. “I hate pulling rank. But I loathe being bullied. Be grateful for the ‘lawful society.’ Now—about that five million?”

“Y-yes. No problem.” Zhang’s worldview had shattered.

He’d always gotten his way—until today.

His parents had warned him: “Some people, you never cross.”

Shen Ge, with his skills and untouchable status, was clearly one of them.

The “sugar baby” had turned out to be a titan.

Five million it was.

Zhang transferred the funds with trembling hands.

…..

With their game cut short, Shen Ge and Cheng Shengnan left the sports center.

“Only 2 PM. Too early for hotpot. What do you usually do for fun?” Shen Ge checked his watch.

“Shopping? Clothes? Movies?”

“We’re downtown anyway. How about a triple-header: shopping at International Plaza, a movie, then Old Dragon Stove Hotpot?”

“Perfect!” Cheng Shengnan beamed.

Two hours later, Shen Ge regretted his life choices.

Women’s shopping: an endless loop of outfits, bags, and cosmetics.

Cheng Shengnan modeled everything, demanding opinions she’d ignore anyway.

By the time they reached International Plaza’s cinema, Shen Ge was ready for a break.

Then, as they descended to the theater level—

[Warning!]
[Host has entered a nest of low-tier supernatural entities. Entity count exceeds 20. Extreme danger! Evacuate immediately!]

Shen Ge froze.

A nest of supernaturals?